This is a short work of erotic fiction containing furry, or anthropomorphic, characters, which are animals that either demonstrate human intelligence or walk on two legs, for the purposes of these tales. It is a thriving and growing fandom in which creators are prevalent in art and writing especially.
All work is fiction intended for fantasy only, regardless of content, and consent must always be acquired when engaging in any sex act with another adult.
Please note that all characters are clearly over eighteen and written as such in all stories.
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On the third floor, in another wing, a waitress paused by a group of rich, older women, making small talk. It was a part of her job, yes, but she rather enjoyed that part of her job. She rarely understood the richness of the donors that came there for the event, but Sandra knew that her talking to them would lubricate their hands even more and make their money slippery. If she was lucky, they would tip as well as they donated, though she thought they were all nice enough, none of them older than forty and yet still with a good bit of life experience on her.
Sometimes, Sandra wondered if they could truly have that life experience when they were so rich, what they had to do for themselves -- and, more notably, what they did not have to do for themselves. But that was not really any of her concern, as much as it made her more and more curious about what their lives were really like outside those events.
No one noticed the demon sperm slipping into the room, some crawling through the vents and others slithering across the rug, subtle and discreet. Oh, they knew their task and they knew it well, ploughing first into Sandra as her head jolted back in shock. Her dyed red hair swung to the side, falling free of its bun, and she cried out as at least sixteen wormed into her, going up the legs of her black trousers and some diving into her mouth, too quick to stop.
Sandra was not the first to fall and she would by no means be the last either, oh no. Not as the guests were corrupted too, eyes wide, trying to understand, though their resistance softened quickly, letting light euphoria flow through them. It was doubtless that some of the women, allowed to indulge, were more than aware of that feeling, as strange as it was to Sandra. She had never partaken in anything stronger than mere alcohol, after all...
The guests moaned, shuddering and bending over against the side table where they had been standing, drinking and talking, relaxing in the moment, though they had had big plans for the rest of the event. Yet they had only got four or five demon sperm each, whereas Sandra had received the bulk of them, grunting and groaning, her crotch bulging. That would be to her detriment, in terms of multiples...
"Mmmmph... Ohhhh..." She cried out, her jaws hanging open, practically drooling with the overflow of lusty saliva in her mouth, as if even that small part of her body was not under her control anymore. "So... So...good..."
The guests did not fare better than her, however, not as dresses were hitched up and pussies were exposed -- though some clothes did not survive. Not that they had to either, not as the women grew cocks, bursting through their fine lingerie as if it provided no barrier at all to them, shredding it completely. It did not have to be re-used, after all, and it was doubtful that some of those rich ladies even wore the same pair of underwear twice, such was their way of life.
One panted and rocked her hips, unbridled in orgasm, her hair falling loose from where she had had the golden curls messily pinned on her head. It was a modern style, a messy style, but one that had worked for her young, spritely face. Yet she would never be the same again as a cock bulged from her, giving her the impression that something that not even she could understand was pushing out and out and out from deep within the core of her being. Her belly rocked forward too, though that did not relieve the pressure as she ground up against the expensive, shiny, wooden sideboard like an animal in heat.
No one cared. Her breasts throbbed, every beat of her heart sending them larger and larger, though it was just a rhythm that she could hold onto, at least then. She didn't even remember her name, as if it mattered anymore. Her breasts rolled out against her dress, though one boob had already popped free, dragging the fine fabric down and down, showing off all that she had to offer. She pushed her hips up from the chair that she had managed, just about, to stumble into, a low groan rising from the back of her throat, but her breasts had to grow, yes, so much more, always more.
She'd never focused so much on her tits before, but she couldn't stop touching them, groping them, squeezing them. Where there had been more soft give in her flesh before, enough that she could dig her fingers into her breasts, they were firmer and rounder, as if they were inflating with something or being filled with something. She was not to know what the truth of it, even then, was.
Another grunted, masturbating furiously, her hair trimmed shorter in a modern style, on all fours with a hand between her legs. She had managed to prop herself up, just the shoulder, on the edge of a fine sofa, but her hand worked too furiously back and forth, rubbing her clit harder than she ever had done, to worry about the fabric. It might have been posh and just a little pretentious, even to her, but, well...what was there to worry about?
"Oh... Oh, yes..." She moaned, skin tingling, sweat beading under her arms, shirt straining over her growing tits, pulling tauter and tauter until it looked like it could contain her breasts no more. "Yes... Please... Give it to me... I need more... So much... Nnnnggghhhh...more..."
That was her mantra. More, always more. That was all she had to think about, even as her fingers rammed into her pussy and she screamed in orgasm, head thrown back, eyes glassy in such a haze of pleasure. Her fingers pressed into her pussy, trying to squeeze a third into her dripping passage too, but she couldn't quite get the angle right, not even then, though it was not all that bad, no, not at all. Nothing to concern her, nothing to worry about, whimpering, grunting, moaning, a feral creature driven by depravity, passion and raw need.
Her tits burst through her shirt, scattering the diamonds that had embellished the buttons, though no one paid her any mind. It might have been a loss, before, but not anymore, not as the rest of her felt like she was thickening up too, something pressing from her crotch. It rippled and bulged, straining and straining to get free, yet something with such a mind of its own, or their own, was not intended to be locked away forever.